


Fault

by Inu_Sama



Series: GOOD GIRLS [4]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Aki means Bright or Autumn, Art Shows, Artist Original Male Character, Beth Boland Bashing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Foster homes, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecurity, Japanese Character(s), Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 17:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inu_Sama/pseuds/Inu_Sama
Summary: "See - most people don't see that. They see the tats and the colour of my skin and the way I walk and they immediately think 'criminal'. If they see me in there, those purse strings are gonna get real short and I know you were excited about tonight." Rio almost pleads, for me to understand, to not be mad at him.I'm not, not really. But I could never stay mad at this man - something that, ironically, irritates the shit out of me.





	1. Art Show

**Aki**

"...and I'm gonna stop rambling now," I say bashfully into the microphone, pulling at the hem of my oversized sweater, the peach colour complimenting the snowy glow to my skin and the contrasting darkness of my eyes and hair. Draws the eyes to my plush pink lips and the self-deprecating half-smirk as I look up at the crowd through my naturally long lashes.

There's a collective 'aww' I can hear in the little sighs and encouraging smiles I receive and I straighten up with a bright and childish grin. I spread my arms out, hands almost completely covered by the fuzzy/soft sleeves.

"But I really hope you enjoy the show! I put my heart and soul into it!" The crowd cheers before dispersing, branching off into cliques and acceptable social circles as they wander the large gallery. With a tired sigh, I hop off the small stage, boots thudding dully against the concrete.

Making my way outside for a ciggy break, I breathe in the cool night air as I heave the heavy glass front door open and let it swing shut loudly behind me. I let a cancer stick hang from my mouth as I lazily shift through the pockets hidden in my sleeves for a lighter.

I hadn't gotten any sleep last night, too busy making sure everything for tonight was  _ perfect  _ \- though typically, the one I was trying so hard for didn't even  _ show up-- _

_ "Aki~" _ the voice is quiet but deep, more a languid purr that never fails to send a shiver down my spine. It's pure honey and I revel in the level of affection and pride dripping from that one word--my name.

Leather clad arms circle me from behind, one tattooed hand holding out an already ignited lighter while the other blocks the flame from the tiny breeze that brings just a little winter bite with it. The lighter is one of those old chunky metal ones with a fliptop. It has Autumn leaves etched into the sides. 

With a smile, I lean forward to touch the tip of my cigarette to it and watch it catch, lighting up the partial darkness with a warm orange glow. The hands disappear and my favourite person in the world rounds the curb into my view.

"Rio~" I finally greet with just as much warmth, blowing smoke from my nose in a long, practised breath. Gone were the days of coughing at the slightest burn in the back of Abuela's veggie garden, Rio trying to stifle that rich dark laughter I'd already grown to love by then as Carlos tries and fails to get us to stop ruining our lungs.

"So nice of you to show," I can't help but snip with narrowed eyes, pinching the ciggy between my thumb and forefinger as I blow more smoke out the side of my mouth, carefully away from him. 

Man quit when Abuelo died of a stroke in my Sophomore year, said he wanted to be around a lot longer than he would be if he didn't cut out the bad things in his life. Which I always found ironic, considering the dangerous line of work he was in.

To my surprise, Rio scuffs his steel-toed boots on the road and looks down with his hands firmly planted inside the pockets of his jacket - the perfect picture of bashful chastisement. He mumbles something too quick and too low for me to hear and I lean forward, cocking my head.

"What was that?" I ask, and I'm short enough to be able to look up into his carefully stony face even when his head is bowed. Rio purses his lips, raising his head as he avoids my gaze. I huff, just about to reach up and grab him by the ear to tell him what's what when he opens his mouth.

"I didn't wanna scare them." He grumbles reluctantly and I blink, confusion furrowing my brows.

"Who?" And he seems partly exasperated and amused at my genuine confusion. He gestures a long-fingered hand in the general direction of his body - a very  _ fine  _ body I can assure you.

"Aki, what do you see when you look at me?" He asks then, an amused tilt to that sinful mouth and I bite my lip to keep from saying  _ 'the only man I'll ever love' _ because I know that he loves me, just not in the way I want him to.

"My brother," I manage instead, chest tight as I quickly divert from that intense gaze that I can still feel burning my face. My eyes trace the graceful path of an alleycat as it climbs the maze of fire escapes across the street to the third floor where a bowl of food is already waiting for it.

I flick ash from the cigarette in my hand with an absent tap of my fingers.

"The scrappy kid next door that managed to save me from being just another statistic in the foster system." I spare him a wry grin, trying valiantly not to let the pain show in my face and voice as I swallow back what I really want to tell him.

"The boy who taught me that the world was a much brighter place than I'd thought and the guy who protected me from all manner of assholes who thought I was an easy target because I'm short, Asian and look like a girl."

Rio's eyes are like molten chocolate when I dare to look at him again and there's a small but genuine smile on his face that is so full of love it's physically painful to look at. Because it's not the kind of love I want, it's not the kind of love I will ever get from him.

I'm his beloved baby brother, one of the few people he can call family. That's never going to change, no matter how I feel. But it's okay--it hurts, but I've long accepted it. Or, at least that's what I keep telling myself, keep telling myself it's enough to just be by his side.

It's not.

Rio shakes his head, like he's a pastor about to impart on me some holy life lesson. The image; Rio, tattoos and all, wearing robes and a collar with his golden gun placed on the podium like a threat as he reads from the bible - makes me smirk, just a little bit.

"See - most people don't see that. They see the tats and the colour of my skin and the way I walk and they immediately think 'criminal'. If they see me in there, those purse strings are gonna get real short and I know you were excited about tonight." Rio almost pleads, for me to understand, to not be mad at him.

I'm not, not really. But I could never stay mad at this man - something that, ironically, irritates the shit out of me. Though it is sweet of him, my Mexican warrior always trying to protect me. 

I sigh and grind the remains of my cancer stick beneath my boot before quickly darting up to get a good grip of Rio's ear. It might have been sweet, but it was riddled with insecurity and self-loathing - something I have an obligation to beat out of his thick skull when it crops up.

It's an ongoing battle, but these days the man is much more sure of himself and so it's not often I come across it.

I drag him down to my level then, a snarl on my face. He goes easily, either from surprise or all the times our Abuela did the exact same thing when Rio shot up in height a little after his fifteenth birthday, have conditioned him - I might never know.

"You fuckin' listen to me,  _ estúpido  _ \- cuz I'm only gonna say this  _ once _ ." I hiss harshly into his ear, the Spanish rolling off my tongue as easily as it did his, having grown up with him and living with the woman that primarily spoke that language and little else.

"I don't give a flying  _ fuck  _ what they think. You could walk in there with guns waving and your dick out screaming about  _ aliens  _ and I wouldn't  _ give a shit  _ so long as you were  _ there _ ." I stress with a quiet sort of desperation that I was sure only I could hear. I need my nice warm bed, like now. 

With my piece said, I let go of his ear and shove him lightly on the chest. He stumbles back slightly and looks down at me, brows somehow simultaneously raised in surprise and scrunched in confusion.

There's an emotion swimming in those twin dark pools but I don't know what it is and ultimately decide to ignore it as it quickly disappears to be replaced by that signature smirk.

"Where the fuck did you learn to swear,  _ hermanito _ ?" Rio grins wolfishly and I roll my eyes with a snort. I also ignore the twist in my gut at that term; little brother.

"It's a mystery, truly." I deadpan and relish in the little chuckle it gets me. The door opens behind us and the sounds of many voices all talking at once washes over me like a river and I close my eyes to brace myself. I've never liked crowds, but I know Bella will be looking for me soon - an artist has to be part of his work and all that shit.

"Come on, let's see how many rich white old fuckers croak it when they see you." Rio laughs openly at that as I grab him by the hand, threading our fingers together and pull him inside the gallery.


	2. Ain't Gonna Stop This Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut and Angst in this one.

**Rio**

Aki was asleep in the seat next to me halfway through the drive home. His delicate hands were holding the seat belt away from his youthful face as he curled up against the window, head rested against the glass. His sweater was pooled around his folded legs, almost swallowing them.

I smiled and fixed my gaze back onto the road. I thought back to our conversation earlier in the night and felt it fade.

_'What do you see when you look at me?'_

_'My brother.'_

I knew what the answer would be before I even asked it, but it still stung. But these days it seemed like I was just into that kind of thing; torturing myself.

Especially when it came to Aki, my adopted brother, the same kid that was four years younger than me...the same kid that I was secretly in love with.

I could barely admit it to myself, it just felt wrong on so many levels. Aki trusted me, it felt like I was betraying that trust by thinking about him that way.

By wondering what the slide of his skin against mine would feel like, what noises I could get him to make if I just moved the right way, how his alabaster skin would flush with heat and pleasure--

I shook my head, pulling into our driveway and pressing the button on the dash to open the garage. Once the door had rolled down behind us, I got out of the car and rounded it to the passenger side.

Aki didn't even stir when I opened the door and quickly caught him before he could slump sideways out of the car. I unbuckled him and scooped him up into my arms, getting a nose full of cinnamon and freesia.

I smiled slightly when Aki snuffled in his sleep, pressing his cold nose to the crook of my neck as a hand gripped my shirt.

It wasn't just about sex though, I wanted to be the one he went to bed with every night and woke up to every morning. I wanted to be there for all his art shows and listen to him play the piano in our living room where he would sing lightly under his breath when he thought no one was listening.

I wanted to...I wanted to…

But what did it matter what I wanted? He would never feel that way about me, I was his big brother, his protector, his best friend.

I set Aki on his double bed, pulling his shoes off and setting them at the end of his bed. The kid yawned, stretching out on the familiar sheets and sighed.

I steadfastly looked away when he started fumbling with the zipper on his jeans and kicked them off before rolling over onto his stomach in the middle of the mattress. Shaking my head, I dragged the hot pink comforter over him and savoured the peaceful look on his face.

"Sweet dreams, _amorcito_." I murmured, telling myself it wasn't creepy to press a kiss to my twenty-one year old brother's temple. It wasn't.

"Hai...Otōsan…" Aki mumbled back in his native language and I froze for a moment in slight panic, thinking he was awake - and trying to reassure myself that I was just tucking him in, it wasn't creepy or wrong that I did it with a little more affection and intimacy than was probably normal.

But then Aki sighed again and pulled the blanket way over his head and I stood with a quiet laugh. Though it dried up when I remembered what he said and while I wasn't fluent, I did know enough Japanese to translate.

Father...he thought I was his father. My heart twisted painfully and with one last look at the fuschia pink lump curled up in the middle of the bed, I quickly left his colourful room and stumbled on numb legs down the hall to mine - which was all slim lines and charcoal greys and blacks.

A total opposite to his.

I absently pulled out some sweats and jumped in the shower, the hot water doing wonders for my tight muscles.

I knew that Aki remembered his real parents, that they died coming back from visiting family in Japan. That little Aki was tossed into the foster system almost immediately because his extended family couldn't afford to come and get him or to stay with him in America.

He was the quiet kid at school, smart but with no friends. Before we met he would always be in either the library or the music room, fiddling with the different instruments. Me, being older, had been tempted to kick him out of the latter as he wasn't _technically_ allowed in there without a teacher and I wanted to use it as a base.

Even in Middle school I was aspiring to darker things.

But then he found the piano and I was rooted to the spot, watching those thin but quick little fingers dance across the keys and the serene smile on his pale face…

And I couldn't. Even back then I couldn't take something like that away from him, couldn't be the reason he lost that smile. I hadn't realised what it meant, my feelings for him, until I was in high school and it was everywhere around me; love - or at least some version of it, teenagers were mostly too shallow to feel real love.

After that, Abuelo had a knowing glint in his eye when he looked at me, caught me watching the newest addition to our little family with the kind of rapt attention Abuelo gave Abuela when she talked about what she'd learned on the discovery channel that day.

I don't know if he disapproved - and I never got the chance to ask him, was too scared to. My grandparents were the pillars of my childhood, I don't know if I would have been able to handle it if he did.

When the water turned cold and my fingers were pruny, I turned off the shower and towelled off before slipping on a pair of thick grey sweats with a fluffy inside and going back to my room.

To my surprise Aki was there, still in his sweater and cotton boxers with little flamingos printed on them. I quickly dragged my eyes up to see him nervously biting his lip, face flushed an attractive shade of pink.

"I had a nightmare…" He trailed off, stretching the hem of his sweater as he looked away, blushing harder. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen and I was struggling to control myself.

I let out a sigh and pulled my big brother mask on, shoving any and all inappropriate thoughts into a box that I chucked down a hole to be agonized over later.

"Come on then, better not hog the blanket. I'll kick you out if you do." I grunted, holding up the covers for him after getting into bed and putting my phone on charge. I was immensely pleased when he immediately slid in next to me and I pulled him back against my chest.

"Wanna tell me 'bout it?" I asked with a yawn, wrapping my arms snug around his slim waist. It felt right, to have him in my arms, my chin resting on the top of his silky black curls as he pressed his forehead into my clavicle.

I felt him shake his head and curl closer, hands splayed against my chest and under his cheek. It reminded me of simpler times, when Aki first came to live with us and would have nightmares about his parents or the piece of shit that was supposed to take care of him but hurt him instead.

I'd felt such innocent pride that _I_ was the one he chose to help him. Then things got muddled and now it doesn't feel so innocent - at least on my end. Aki was too pure still, too good for someone like me.

I was a criminal, after all - the leader of one of the largest gangs in Detroit. I'd already tainted him enough, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I ended up dragging him down to my level.

"Alright, good night Aki." He muttered something along the same lines in response and I could tell he was quickly drifting off again. I smiled.

Didn't mean I wasn't still going to take what I could get and cherish moments like these.

 

**Aki**

The next day Rio was already gone by the time I woke up (which was just after lunch because I'd been running on caffeine and stress all week), a note stuck to the cling-wrapped plate of stone cold pancakes on the kitchen counter, saying something came up at 'work' and he had to go.

I tried not to let myself feel bitter, but it was a near thing. It slithered through my gut like a cold snake and soured the back of my tongue. I sighed but removed the cling-wrap anyway, taking special attention to scrunching up the note into a little angry ball and throwing it against the marble.

It bounced and skidded to the other side of the island and into the sink as I climbed up into one of the stools beside me, pulling the plate over. Cold pancakes were just as good as hot ones, in my opinion - though Rio thought it was blasphemy and an affront to his chef sensibilities.

There was even a liberal amount of chocolate syrup absolutely drenching it - just the way I liked it. I sniffed, idly wondering if I was getting a cold as I rubbed my nose and picked up the fork beside the plate.

* * *

It wasn't long after I showered and dressed for the day(afternoon) that I got a text from Bella.

_~OMG!!!!!! AKIIIIIIIII!!!!!!~_

Was the first in a long line of messages, hastily typed with clumsy fingers probably still more than a little hungover from the after-party I'd begged out of last night. I rolled my eyes and stepped out of the bathroom, steam billowing out behind me.

Bella was my best friend, but she was always a little dramatic, always a little over the top in almost everything that she did. She was also my manager.

_~We sold them all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!~_

There were little pray hands emojis and then a picture of all my paintings from the gallery being wrapped and put into crates. I stilled, towel still over my head as numb fingers scrolled through the chat just to make sure I'd read it right.

"Holy shit…" I whispered, not hearing the front door click shut. I startled slightly when hands came up from behind me to continue drying my hair with careful, languid movements - but quickly relaxed when I got a whiff of metal and lavender.

The man started to say something, but all I could focus on was the fact that my first upscale real art show was a blinding success and I was now over 1.3 million dollars richer.

"Holy shit!" I shouted when it truly sunk in, twisting around and launching myself at a shocked Rio, phone still clutched tightly in my hand as I wrapped my legs around his waist. The towel fell off my head and onto the floor, streaks of black flicking into my eyes--but I didn't care!

"We fuckin' did it! Rio! They're all gone!" I giggled in excitement; too ecstatic to notice the stiff, uncomfortable lines Rio's body had taken on until I was being carefully lowered to the floor.

I looked up at him, confused and more than a little disappointed. He smiled down at me, but I could tell his heart wasn't really in it.

"That's great, _principito_. I'm really happy for you." He said in a soft, but tightly controlled tone of voice - like he was restraining himself. I frowned, pinpricks of moisture coming into my eyes as a little hurt stabbed into the fleshy underside of my heart.

But then I realised what I had just done and flinched back when he reached up a hand to smooth my hair back. He said my name, a question, but I couldn't hear him over the roaring in my ears.

I'd clearly crossed a line, made him uncomfortable but he was too much of a nice guy to say so. I refused to meet his gaze as I felt myself flush, still dealing with the phantom warmth of his body pressed against mine and the softness of his touch against my forehead.

"Uh--" I cleared my throat, blinking back the tears of humiliation and hurt as I bent down to pick up my towel. I felt like such an idiot! Of course me jumping him like that would make him uncomfortable!

"Right, I should uh...head over there, B'll wanna celebrate." I stuttered, making my way back down the hall to my room. Rio let me go without a word and I crouched down once I'd closed my door, head between my knees as I struggled to get my breathing under control.

What the fuck was I doing? Rio wasn't that big on touch anyway and there I go invading his personal space like I have a right to it. The thing that hurts the most is that I never will.

I grimaced. I needed to get laid. Now. I had all this frenetic energy that needed to be burned off before I did something really stupid.

It took me a bit to calm down, but when I did I called Bella and agreed to meet her at a bar. It was a little early to go clubbing, so she suggested we do pre-drinks to warm up.

I dressed in my sluttiest outfit and quickly left without checking to see if Rio was still home. I couldn't look at him right now.

 

** Rio  **

I was almost asleep when I heard the front door be shoved open, immediately tensing and reaching for the glock under my pillow. But then I heard a familiar giggle and relaxed in something like relief.

It was late at night - almost the wee hours of the morning - and I'd spent most of that time fretting. Yes, Big Bad Gangsters get worried too, ya know? Aki hadn't said anything when he left in the afternoon, so I assumed that all these hours had been spent with his best friend 'celebrating'.

Which could range from movie night with mounds of junk food to hard core clubbing and the high likelyhood of alcohol poisoning. Suffice to say I was worried.

That worry dried up into something bitter and dark when I heard a moan and a masculine voice that was decidedly _not_ my adoptive brother.

Oh. Of course.

It felt like a knife twisting in my chest when I heard them enter his room, stumbling, drunk and giggling like a couple of teenagers sneaking home. Our rooms shared a wall and I regretted shoving my bed right up against it when we first moved in.

But there was also a sick little part of me that was getting hard at the sound of Aki's voice.

"What are you waiting for? _Fuck me~_ " He purred and I felt my sweats grow tight at the demanding tone. There was a tearing sound - a condom wrapper, no doubt - and then there was a long lewd moan that echoed through the wall and into my bloodstream, igniting it.

Fuck it, I thought and slid my hands under the waistband of my pants. I was already a depraved incestuous pervert, why not enjoy myself in the process?

I listened intently to the sharp slap of skin on skin and my brother's wanton pants and moans, completely ignoring the deeper grunts of whoever he was with. I got hard quickly, but elected to draw it out, getting lost in my fantasies.

"Oh yes! Ahh--just like that!" Aki panted, the sound slightly muffled and I imagined it was because his face was pushed into the rainbow pillows I _knew_ were on his bed and not because of the drywall separating us.

As we both got closer to the edge, I imagined Aki on top, that lithe smooth body riding my dick like it was made for him and I growled deep in my throat, too low for it to carry.

His skin would be flushed and littered with bites, lips swollen from kissing and his dark eyes would be alight with love and passion as he moaned my name.

I came the same time Aki did, roughly jerking out of my head with a kind of sharp clarity as my hips stuttered and I spilled all over my hand and the inside of my sweats.

One thought circled around my mind when I heard a deeper guttural grunt signalling the other guy's orgasm;

Pathetic.

The afterglow soured in the pit of my stomach in the face of what I'd just done. I felt disgusted with myself but I also couldn't go and wash myself because I didn't want Aki to know that I was home, that I heard everything.

He would be embarrassed and grossed out and I couldn't deal with that right now. So instead I grabbed a couple tissues from my desk on the other side of my room and did the best I could before sliding back under the covers as quietly as I could and tried to get some sleep.

I put in my earphones and turned on some N.F and cranked the volume when I heard another moan.

I had three suburban bitches to deal with in the morning, after all.


	3. Hangover

**Aki**

Club-guy left after a few more rounds, neither of us the cuddling type - at least, not with each other and I locked up after showing him out. 

We didn't exchange numbers, didn't make promises to see each other again - I didn't even know his name. And with the alcohol still swimming in my veins, by tomorrow I probably wouldn't even be able to describe his face.

Meaningless sex wasn't something I usually partook in, especially not a home, but I was feeling a little vindictive. Even if it wouldn't really translate that way to the one person on this planet that I wanted to share my life with.

I sighed and jumped into the shower after discarding the used condoms and changing my sheets, a pair of boxers and another fuzzy sweater folded on the counter. 

Despite everything, I was still feeling a little vulnerable and my sweaters had always been a sort of armour since that first one, years ago. 

It was the first christmas present I'd gotten since coming to America and it'd been from that nice old mexican lady next door that I didn't know would become as important to me as the memories of my parents.

I didn't realise I was crying until a sob got stuck in my throat and I slid down the wall, the hot spray hitting my legs as I cupped a hand over my mouth. 

I picked myself up sometime later, pity party over with, and went to bed.

 

* * *

I left early the next morning, the saturday traffic doing nothing to help the dark mood I had found myself in when I woke up to a room that still smelt like sex. Having the mother of all hangovers probably wasn't helping any. 

Grabbing some breakfast, enough for two, I spared the barista a flirtatious smile that didn't quite reach my eyes before sliding back onto my motorbike. It was a sleek little 250cc Kawasaki that Rio had given me when I graduated top of my class in high school and was about to enter college.

I was three years into my modern arts degree and only had a few months left, which was mainly just about finishing up any projects by this point and milking our teachers for any outside connections to the art world.

The latter had been a giant success and I was on the fast track to becoming a  _ very  _ rich man.

Despite the somewhat early hour, Abuela knew the sound of my bike by now and I waved when she peered curiously out the window on the second floor. She smiled and waved back before disappearing behind the curtain. 

When she opened the front door, she pulled me into her arms, her cheek pressed against mine(we were the same height, much to my dismay) I instantly felt at home.

I let out a long, satisfied sigh and returned the hug as much as I could with one hand balancing a box of doughnuts and two coffees in a tray. She murmured sweet little endearments into my ear, her spanish fast and full of maternal love.

I felt tears well up and slip down my cheeks before I could stop them and Abuela pulled back, brows creased with worry.

"What's the matter,  _ mi corazón? _ " She asked, taking the food from my suddenly numb fingers and leading me over to the couch. She laid me down and pulled my head into her lap, like she used to do when I was younger and was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When her fingers, stiff and thick with the evidence of a life hard lived, started stroking through my hair I closed my eyes and wished for simpler times.

"I just missed you, that's all. It's been a stressful week." I said - and it was true, Abuela was my heart as much as I was hers. 

"Such a  _ dulce niño _ , so good to his  _ Abuela~ _ " She cooed and swept my hair back to press a kiss to my forehead. No matter how old I get, I would always be her little boy and I found that thought (especially considering we weren't related by blood) filling my chest with warmth.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" She asked after a few quiet moments where I just soaked up her love like a man starved. I pulled out of her lap and sat up, opening the box of doughnuts on the coffee table and reaching for a bearclaw before I answered.

"So you know I told you about how Mr. Stetson was willing to hook me up with his Art friend, who was part of this huge circle of clientele?" She nodded as I took a bite, pulling out her own jam delight after covering her lap with a napkin.

"Well, I had an art show earlier this week and all my paintings sold." I couldn't keep the excitement out of my voice and her eyes widened before she squealed and stood, pulling me up with her so we could dance around the living room.

"Oh that's wonderful,  _ mi estrella! _ I'm so happy for you!" She laughed, genuinely ecstatic and I could feel my mood lift and I laughed along with her, twirling her around my hand before we continued our waltz.

This was exactly what I needed, I was glad I had Abuela in my life - at least  _ our  _ relationship wasn't so complicated.

 

* * *

Rio found me later that afternoon in the sun room - which had been promptly appropriated by me into my art studio when I moved in after high school. He most likely had followed the languid croons of Billie Eilish and K.Flay that I had on in the background. 

I was standing at my easel with a ciggy dangling from my lips, it was the only room in the house that I allowed myself to smoke in as I didn't want to upset Rio. Though he had no problem with it, I knew it would make it harder on him to stay clean. 

My sweater had been exchanged for paint splattered overalls with the pant legs rolled up to my knees and a ratty t-shirt underneath. 

I was holding a brush in one hand and had row of open watercolour pots sitting on a tray at my hip, even the large metal wheels had their fair share of battle scars over the years.

I was unashamed to be caught singing along to Bad Vibes at the top of my lungs, though since he didn't know I knew he was standing in the doorway behind me, I didn't falter, didn't stop the words flowing from my lips.

_ 'Rollin' a cigarette _

_ When you know that smoking causes cancer _

_ Say that it's just depressing _

_ When basic girls sing "Tiny Dancer" _

_ Sip all your drinks on ice, no surprise _

_ Your backyard's filled with stray cats _

_ And that's sad' _

I laughed at that last bit, just imagining Bella with her sea of cats and bed hair with ruined makeup and a steaming mug in her hands, cursing the sun for its bright existence. I could definitely imagine that happening. Maybe I should draw it and give it to her for her birthday, tell her that's her future? 

"God, that'd be hilarious." I muttered with a sadistic grin, quickly typing a note on my phone with my free hand before slipping it back into the back pocket of my overalls. 

A half finished watercolour of what I remembered of my life in Japan was in front of me. Particularly the memory of dancing in the rain with my Otōsan, the red of my umbrella hiding my face and an oni mask obscuring his.

Now I added a few more details to said mask, hand steady as I hummed under my breath and bopped my head a little, unable to  _ not  _ let the music move me. I've always loved music for that specific reason; because its thrall is unavoidable, calls to the very base of my being and makes it soar.

It's not the first time Rio's just wanted to watch me, he's always been watching me and I could tell seeing me happy gave him peace of mind. And if I started twisting my hips to the beat, well, that was just coincidence.

When Will Champlin's  _ Party Drug _ came on, I sung that one too, some of the lyrics hitting me a little harder today and I quickly lost myself to the flow of it, closing my eyes. 

Though my voice was a little higher than his, I'd been told I had an excellent singing voice and so I had no hesitation with the loud chorus or when the singer went high on a few words.

When the song came to an end and the next one started, I dried the brush on my thigh and stuck it in the crease of my ear like I would a cigarette, exhaling smoke from my nose in surprise when I was pulled back into a hard chest.

"Hey," Rio murmured, burying his face into the junction between my neck and my shoulder. From just that one word I could tell he was exhausted, the kind of bone-deep soul tired he gets when there's too much bullshit in his life and he's on the verge of throwing his hands up in exasperation and leaving the chips to fall where they may.

It seemed like he needed to pay a visit to Abuela and her emotional healing prowess.

"Hard day at work,  _ Shin'aina? _ " I teased, pinching my mostly finished cigarette between my thumb and forefinger and putting it out in the flat metal ashtray Bella had bought me for my birthday last year. It had the day we met engraved onto the edges with autumn leaves and a peace sign framing each corner.

"Something like that." He replied, voice slightly muffled into my shirt. "Why does he have such an angry mask on?"

I blinked for a moment, before I followed his gaze to the A3 paper I had stuck to a board on my easel and shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I felt his patient gaze on my face as I traced the lines of my Otōsan's dark hair sticking out the back of the mask and flowing down his back in silky curls with my eyes.

I remember how he used to let me play with his hair, I learned to plait it, twist it into braids. Okāsan used to say it was good dexterity training and made it part of my piano lessons. He was so patient with me, never got angry at me when I messed up or pulled on his hair too much. Very different to my Okāsan, who had to have everything perfect and done just so.

I smiled sadly as the memories of that day played behind my closed lids.

"It's an  _ Oni  _ mask," I explained, my heart thudding painfully as the remnants of Otōsan's deep laugh and the sound of rain echoed in my ears. 

"On  _ Setsubun  _ parents put on the masks of demons and try to scare their children. When the child throws beans at the 'demon' it's supposed to bring good luck into the home for the year." 

I let out a bitter laugh then, feeling my good mood dissipate in the wake of my memories. 

"Obviously it's a load of shit because a few months later they were dead and I was stuck in a country I barely knew the language of." I could feel Rio's arms tighten around me in response to the shift in my mood and I sighed, leaning back against him for the first time.

"I'm sorry," Rio murmured, and whether he was apologising because my life story is tragic, or if it was just because he ruined the good mood Abuela had managed to coax out of me...I didn't know, but what I did know was that I wasn't the only one that needed cheering up right now.

With that in mind, I shook my head and took his hand, leading him out of the room at the back of the house and into the kitchen/living room.

"Look, I'll let you make me some choc chip cookies and we'll sit down and watch some shitty comedies, okay?" I may have ended it on a question, but really it was more of a demand. Man didn't have a choice, and by the small smirk tugging the edge of his mouth up almost reluctantly, he knew that too.

"Well,  _ thanks _ ,  _ princesa  _ \- I was just  _ waiting  _ for the opportunity to feed you cookies." He drawled with genuine humour in his voice now and I rolled my eyes, giving him a shove towards the kitchen. 

"Go then, servant! And make sure there's extra chips for your cheek!" I huffed imperiously, relishing in the rich laugh that got out of him as I sprawled myself(gracefully, of course) across the couch. 

When he came in a few minutes later, the sound of the oven timer ticking away behind him, I made sure to stretch out on the couch, taking up as much room as I could.

" _ Sorry _ , seat's taken." I drawled insincerely, my eyes trained on the tv through his long legs as I set up Netflix with the remote. 

I was not prepared for the arms that easily lifted me off the couch like I weighed next to nothing. I screeched something that sounded like his name and he laughed, dumping me on one side of the couch while he took the other.

"Doesn't look so taken to me now." Rio said smugly, so of course I kicked him. He just laughed again, the corners of his eyes crinkling in genuine mirth.


End file.
